


when you gamble, anything can happen

by panakin-anakin-skywalker (lylilunapotter)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Relationship - CT-6116 | Kix/A clean and orderly med bay, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Major Character Undeath, Revolution with a happy ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 00:32:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16566158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lylilunapotter/pseuds/panakin-anakin-skywalker
Summary: Fives wakes up in a bar minus any recollection of the night before... and plus one child. A child he, apparently, won in a Sabacc game the night before.His immediate reaction? Panic.(It's a perfectly natural reaction, thank you.)





	when you gamble, anything can happen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Punky12345678](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Punky12345678/gifts).



> This fic is courtesy of Punky12345678's prompt and the Discord egging me on as I posted snippets of this.
> 
> So thank you, General Cody, this has been a lot of fun to write!

Fives wakes up when someone shoves him onto the floor. It's not a fun way to wake up, and he can already feel a pounding headache developing from too much whiskey the... night before? Fives pries his eyes open open enough to see that, yup, the light quality was that of early morning.

 

“Hey,” said a strange voice gruffly. “You awake yet?”

 

“...Yeah,” Fives said, leveraging himself into a sitting position on the floor of the bar he'd apparently passed out in last night. The owner of the voice turned out to be a man with a florid complexion and a scowl.

 

“I don't like this, but. A deal's a deal. I keep my promises,” Scowly said. He shoved a small figure in Fives' direction. “Here.”

 

Fives was having a hard time focusing his eyes on account of his severe hangover, but he thought it might be a kid. Purple... purple skin? And headtails. A twi'lek kid? Why was this scowly man shoving a kid at him in a bar at- he checked his chrono - sixth hour?

 

“Here's her controller,” said Scowly, holding a little electronic device in the air, then placing it on the bar top next to him. “And here's to hoping I never see you again.” Scowly turned on heel and left without another word.

 

“...what just happened?” Fives asked the air. The bartender replied,

 

“You passed out in my bar, and that man just came to give you your winnings from last night. Sabacc game. Went in your favor by a long ways.”

 

“Beginner's luck, I guess,” Fives said, hauling himself into an upright position by sheer will. Gods. His head was pounding, he could barely see, it felt like something had died in his mouth. And there was a small child staring at him with wary eyes, who hadn't moved an inch from where Scowly had pushed her to. Fives was in no position to make heads nor tails of the situation, though maybe Anakin, at least, would have an idea what the device the man had left behind was, his husband was a genius with machinery. Fives stopped for a moment. Anakin. The device. Something about these two things together was ringing a bell. The barkeep's movement caught his attention. Apparently he'd managed to look pitiful enough while he'd stood and thought that the Nautolan woman had taken pity on him. She dropped a shot of liquor on the bartop and Fives didn't hesitate, throwing it back immediately. Well. At least his mouth wasn't quite as dry now.

 

“Now, you wanna take her and get out of my bar? I'd like to clean this place up a bit before the next round of patrons runs through and makes a mess of things,” said the bartender.

 

“Okay,” Fives mumbled. His thoughts chased each other through a whiskey flavored fog.

 

Anakin. Small child. A device. Scowly had called it her... controller. The realization hits him like a cannon blast.

 

“Oh, shit,” Fives swore vehemently. “Um, sorry,” he directed to the kid. They just stared up at him. “Alright, um. We can't stay here, obviously, she's booting us out, and bars aren't good places for children. We'll have to head back the the Resolute, not that a warship is a great place for a child either, but.” Fives was well aware that he was babbling, but he couldn't seem to stop, or think, or. One step at a time. Grab the kid and the. The detonator. Get the hell out of the bar. His mouth kept running at a thousand kliks a minute, and he didn't come back to full awareness until his boots hit the loading ramp of the Resolute.

 

It dawned on him just then that he had a slave kid in his arms, who he won in a bet in a card game last night, and he was about to board a ship which contained Jedi General Anakin Skywalker, former child slave. He didn't even remember if he'd asked if he could pick them up before doing it, or if he'd told them where he was taking them both. Strike number two against him. (Strike one being that he apparently gambled and won a sentient, and a child at that.)

 

“Um,” he began hesitantly. “I'm gonna let you down and... and we'll figure this out, okay? Can you hold my hand? This is a big ship and I don't want to lose you.” The kid didn't say anything, but they did slip a hand into one of Fives' own once he'd set them on their feet. Bare feet. Damn. Note to self, Fives thought borderline hysterically, add “find child-sized boots” to my To Do list. Right after “somehow explain this to my superiors when I don't even know what happened” and before “retreat to my quarters and PANIC.”

 

After a moment of dithering, he led them both to the med bay. He could get some painkillers to stave off the worst of his state, and they could see about digging the tracking chip out of the kid. Hadn't his husband mentioned once that they were armed with explosives, too? At the memory, Fives quicken his pace, but had to slow down again once he realized the poor kid was almost running trying to match his stride.

 

“Sorry,” Fives said, looking down at the kids violet eyes. They just stared at him, and Fives had a thought.

 

“Do you understand Basic, kiddo?” The stare changed to an affronted stare.

 

“That's a yes, then.” They reached the doors to the Med Bay, and Fives palmed them open. Kix looked up from his task (organizing the new stock of supplies) at the noise. Fives watched him open his mouth to ask him what he'd done this time, only to close it once he noticed the kid hanging onto his hand, wide eyed and a little winded.

 

“Hi,” Fives said lamely. “I have a patient for you.”

 

Kix raised his eyebrow. “I see. And what's my patient's name?” That brought Fives up short. He had no idea.

 

“Um...” He trailed off. Kix's other eyebrow rose to meet its twin. Fives cringed.

 

“It's been a difficult morning,” he said defensively. Kix rolled his eyes to the ceiling, allowing himself one moment to be an exasperated brother, before snapping into Medic Mode.

 

“So what are we here for today?” Kix asked.

 

“Uhh, they probably need broad-spectrum immunizations, now that ai think about it but, um. That's not why I brought them here.”

 

“And why did you bring them here?” Kix pressed.

 

“Do you have the, um, the facilities for. Removing. Uh. They’ve got an explosive implant,” Fives finally blurted. Kix stared hard at him. Ohhhh, this was not going to be a fun conversation. At least he was getting some sort of practice in before he had to tell the General about this. Actually, Fives wasn't sure what he was looking forward to less: explaining this to his General, or to his husband. Sometimes it was great that they were the same person, but other times, like, say, NOW. It was terrible. The only upside is that he'd only have to say it once.

 

“I see,” Kix said again. Tone perfectly neutral. Fives was completely fucked. He needed to explain, and fast.

 

“I, uh. Woke up in a bar this morning, and some scowly man shoved her at me and gave me some sort of remote—“ Kriff. Fives began frantically checking the pouches on his belt. Please please please tell me I crammed it in here before I booked it, there's no way to make it to the bar and back here before it's time to ship out.

 

Fives was so panicked that he didn't process at first what his belt pouches were full of. And they were very full. What in the hells were they so full of, he hadn't left the Resolute with this much pocket detritus last night. Fives walked over to a flat topped cart and began emptying the pouches onto the polished surface. Comm. Spare comm. A handful of bar nuts. Two bottle caps. And money. Oh gods, so much money. What had he been doing last night?! And there— the remote! Fives snatched it up triumphantly.

 

“Got it.”

 

“Got what?”

 

The smile melted off of Fives' face. At any other time, on (almost) any other occasion, that voice made him happy, made him feel safe. Right now, cold fear gripped his heart and spread through his veins like ice water. He'd never dreaded seeing his Cyare before, with the notable exceptions of “he's been terribly injured and I don't want to see him broken like that” and “I've been terribly injured and I don't want him to see me like this and make sad nerf eyes at me while hypocritically admonishing me for recklessness.”

 

Gods. Please don’t let him hate me.

 

Fives turned slowly to face his General.

 

“Um, hi.”

 

“Hi,” Anakin said, one eyebrow raised slightly, mildly confused at his hesitance. “What's going one? I had a feeling I should be down here.” For nearly a minute, all Fives could do was stare at him and scramble mentally. All Kix could do, apparently, was stare judgmentally at his profile while Fives stared at his General, his Cyare.

 

Can't think, brain still broken from whiskey, he thought. Instincts, you're up.

 

His instincts, apparently, thought the best thing he could do was cross back over to where the kid was still standing and staring, and scoop them up before holding them out toward his husband. “Help.”

 

After that, he slipped into the same dissociative mode that had carried him from the bar to the ship. When he came out of it, his Cyare was leading him into the General's quarters.

 

“Wait, what—“

 

“You need to sleep,” Anakin said firmly. “Actually, you need a shower, then you need to sleep. You smell like a bar.”

 

“But—“

 

“She's fine,” Anakin said. “Kix booked her for surgery the second we're safely in hyperspace.”

 

“Wait. She? Did the kid start talking?” Fives asked.

 

“No. Kix's initial medical scans told us that, at least on a genetic level, the kid's female. If not, then we're going to have to wait for them to start talking and tell us themself what they identify as. For now, we're going with girl,“ Anakin explained. “And I wasn't kidding about that shower.” His Cyare gave him a gentle shove in the direction of his quarter's Refresher. Fives went without complaint, curiosity sated for now. The shower was a blur, and he tumbled into sleep the moment his head hit the pillow. Consequently, he never noticed Anakin leave.

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so here's chapter one. Hope you all enjoyed! 
> 
> In future chapters, we'll see a rather different sort of freedom trail than the usual, some brotherly shenanigans, more of Anakin and Fives' relationship, and much more of a delightful, stubborn Twi'Lek girl, who will talk, I swear. She's just a bit shellshocked right now, and rather too young to know how to deal with it. 
> 
> This is absolutely a canon divergent fic— besides Anakin and Fives interacting in-verse much more than in the Clone Wars canon, the Major Character Undeath tag is there for a reason. I'll be unfridging as many people as I can get away with.
> 
> I'll be adding to the tags as I go along, as I don't want to tag for something or someone I don't end up writing, and confuse you all in the process. So, keep an eye on the tags once I've posted an update.
> 
> See you all soon with an update.
> 
> -Lyli


End file.
